Dark Catwalk

One, two, three walk down
The parade of the dead has come to town
With a click of their heels and a clink of their jewels
The skeletons march past the envious fools

Four, five, six stand still
One of them swallows a laxative pill
The fifth and the sixth share a finger of Twix
Then throw it up after a couple of licks

Fans, hands, cameras and clothes
Big bushy hair and small pretty bows
The third has to leave and get a new nose
But the first and the second drop dead in the show